To me, Alex Proudfoot, bad days were a myth. As illogical and implausible as flying pygmy puffs. At least until my life turned into a walking tornado, and all those bad days came back to wreak havoc on my perfect world.

Time is a curious thing. No matter how it's meant to go, it always seems to cave in on itself, forcing the past into the present. But that was exactly what Ebony needed. To forgive the past, face the present, and shape the future.